by Jo Leigh
“Where is she heading?”
“The suburbs,” Rick said. “South Shore. I don’t know what’s going on with the roads, though. Do me a favor—text me the info on both flights?”
Antwan nodded. “Travel safe, bredda. If something changes, I’ll give you a call.”
“Good deal. Later.”
The second he closed the connection with Antwan, Rick said, “It’s safe to come out now.”
He got up, wanting that coffee, but more important, to kiss Jenna.
“Give a girl a heads-up,” she said, coming out of the bedroom wearing her robe over his shirt.
It made him laugh. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t even have the consolation of my first cup of coffee. It was terrible. Like a nightmare I had once where the only coffee anywhere was really bad decaf.”
He shuddered dramatically, and then pulled her into his arms. “Would it be dangerous for me to stop you for a kiss?”
She met his gaze with a glower. “I wouldn’t joke about that. I can be pretty mean before I get my first cup.”
“I’ll risk it.” He made good on his promise, giving her a kiss tailor-made for Jenna and no one else. He’d learned a lot about her in the past couple of days, most of which had to do with what made her happy and what made her crazy happy. He’d save that kiss for later.
She looked a bit dazed when he finally let her up for air. “Sheesh, you took your time there, Sinclair.”
“And you liked every second of it.”
She grinned as she led him to the kitchen.
He wasn’t surprised that he was smiling, too. He’d done a lot of that lately. “Did you hear the conversation?”
“What? Me? Eavesdrop? Never.” She filled mugs for each of them.
“So, you heard that we’ll have two weather breaks where we’ll have a chance to get to our respective homes.” Taking her free hand, he walked her to the couch. His first choice would have been back to bed, but he was afraid they’d get distracted. He didn’t want Jenna to lose any opportunity to leave. He sat first and she joined him, leaving barely enough room to use her right arm.
After a deep inhale, Jenna shook her head. “I don’t want to go. I want to live here forever. And I’d like it to remain this amazing fairy tale.”
“You mean the part where we didn’t have to work at all?” It was hard to hang on to a smile. She was right. Since they’d arrived, life had been magical. But now, as he looked into her sad brown eyes, he wondered if she was thinking about her broken engagement, the future she’d have to rebuild. Was regret already erasing the magic they’d shared?
“Actually I was thinking of this part,” she whispered and leaned in to kiss him.
The mugs were safely set aside before she dragged him down by his lapels. And the next time he looked up, an hour had passed.
* * *
JENNA PROMISED HERSELF she wouldn’t pout any more than was absolutely necessary. Rick had to go back to Oklahoma, and she had to go home. Even now, he was finding out about flight opportunities. She hadn’t planned to be gone at all. Some of her plants were probably desperate for hydration, but that was her only worry. Still, it hurt to know the party was over. “What are our two choices?”
“You could leave around six o’clock,” he said, putting his phone next to him on the couch. “The roads to South Shore should be fine by then, and the next storm won’t come until morning.”
“And you?”
“If it’s still available, I’d catch a red-eye at midnight.”
It was still morning. They hadn’t even had breakfast yet, but six o’clock seemed as if it were minutes away, not hours. There was so much she’d wanted to do. “What happens if you don’t get the red-eye?”
“Then I stay until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Just you?”
He gave her a look that she couldn’t misinterpret. “I know how I’d vote,” she said, itching to dissuade him from tonight’s flight. “But let’s try to be responsible and get you safely back home. I can get a ride anytime.”
“I’m not crazy about this being-sensible nonsense. You’re right, of course. But there’s something else to consider. If we did stay here, we’d be helping Sam out by testing more features. Like that big whirlpool bathtub.”
Jenna was already nodding. “Plus, we should have at least one more great meal.”
“Four, if we can.”
She reached for her coffee, but it was cold. There was a perfectly fine microwave that could zap it back to the right temp, or she could make a fresh pot. Maybe try another kind of coffee. “Oh, I found a waffle iron in the cabinet. How about I make waffles while you cook bacon. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
Forty minutes and a pretty big mess in the kitchen later, they were still in their bathrobes, sitting at the dining room table. Of course there was real maple syrup, and the waffles were the old-fashioned kind, more dense and flat—her favorite.
Jenna put her fork down even though there was a perfect mouthful of waffle on the tines. “Did you ever check on the red-eye flight?”
His wince answered the questions. He whipped out his cell phone and went through the messages. “Antwan got me seats on both flights. We still have an hour to cancel before things get pricey.”
She ignored the rest of her food, her appetite as gone as they would both be in just a few hours.
“We can still take that bath,” Rick said.
“That’s true,” she said, wondering if this counted as a necessary time to pout.
“And there’s...” His words fell somewhere short of his lips as he stared at her.
“Yes?”
“I didn’t expect this. Since we got here, it’s been—”
“Wonderful?” She knew she was putting herself out there, making a leap like that, but the way he looked at her made her warm from the inside out.
“Yeah. Wonderful.” He kept looking at her. “So?”
“I don’t know. Do you think we could still be in shock?” She blinked, and then stared right back. “I mean, from the moment we kissed it was like—I don’t know. I didn’t expect to—” She inhaled through her teeth. “That it would be forever seared in my memory. I remember how when I just let go, let it happen, it was as if we were alone in that hotel. But for that feeling to last all this time?”
Worry lines marred his forehead, and she couldn’t figure out which thing she’d said that had caused them. “Please don’t get the wrong idea, but I think I’m going to miss this apartment as much as I’ll miss you.”
He laughed and finally looked away. He wasn’t worried anymore, which she realized would have been the true moment for a pout. But she smiled instead.
In fact, she probably needed to dial it down a whole bunch of notches. Once that door opened to the outside world, she’d have to face her real life. A life without truffles or Prendimé dark chocolate with almonds. That second one actually made her want to weep. She’d never tasted anything better.
Wait. There was one thing—kissing this gorgeous man while he still tasted like maple syrup.
* * *
HE WASN’T WORRIED about catching the red-eye. He’d make it to the airport just fine, sleep on the way home. Staying longer than he had to was unprofessional. Keeping Jenna here an extra night just because he wanted her company wasn’t like him at all. He loved his job, his career, and he never missed a day if he didn’t have to. If this was tornado season, he’d fly out the minute he could, but—
“What made you so interested in tornadoes?” Jenna asked, her head cradled against his chest as she occupied herself by twirling his chest hair around her fingers.
After breakfast, they’d meant to clean up the kitchen, then take a bath in the whirlpool tub, but one kiss had led to another and t
hey were still in bed, still catching their breath from yet another astonishing round of sex. He was propped up by a few pillows, his arm around her.
Soon they’d be returning to their regular lives, and his life was all about tornadoes, so the question wasn’t a surprise. Yet it wasn’t an easy one for him to answer.
The short version was the one he told most everyone. It consisted of two words: Tornado Alley. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to make light of what he knew now was his calling. Hell, she’d probably get a kick out of what had happened to him.
He’d never told Antwan, and he never told the storm chasers he was in charge of. His father knew, of course, and so did Faith, but he hadn’t told her until they’d been living together for two years.
“Rick? Is that too complicated for your sex-addled brain?”
He smiled, although she couldn’t see. “Smart-ass,” he said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “Do you want the short version, or the long?”
“Long, of course.”
“Why?”
She looked up at him, her finger hovering a quarter of an inch from his right nipple. “Come on. You know I’m interested in learning new things. And you’re definitely something new.”
He’d have been disappointed if she’d answered any other way. “Okay, but you have to understand, I don’t tell many people what really happened to me. Can I trust you to keep it a secret?”
“Not for a minute. I’ll probably call the Boston papers as soon as I get home.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Just checking.”
She pinched him. Not hard, and not in any supersensitive place, but she got his attention.
“All right,” he said. “Jeez. I’ll tell you. Everything.”
She gave him a look before settling down.
“I was fourteen years old,” he began, “and I lived in the most boring town in Oklahoma, right in the middle of Tornado Alley. Which, when you think about it, could explain everything.”
“A lot of people live in the middle of Tornado Alley and I bet they aren’t all storm chasers.”
“Excellent point.” He smiled. With Jenna, the short version would never have cut it. “Anyway, I was kind of a mix of jock and nerd, heavy on the nerd, and I didn’t have the kinds of friends that you might expect a kid to have in a small town. My closest friend had moved to Texas when I was six, so I spent a lot of time alone, playing ‘Mortal Kombat’ and dreaming about becoming an FBI agent like Fox Mulder.
“My mom had died when I was ten. It was cancer and really quick. At the time I was furious that we didn’t have more warning, but now I realize how lucky she was. She hardly suffered at all.
“My dad’s a pediatrician. He worked long hours back then, and I don’t think he was prepared to take care of the house and me. Mom had done most everything. To be fair, though, I always knew I could talk to him and that he wanted what was best for me. We didn’t have a tornado shelter or anything. We hadn’t ever had a tornado where we lived, so most people didn’t. Although, I doubt anything could have stopped what happened.
“It was June. I was off for the summer and one morning I woke up in my attic bedroom to the sound of a thousand trains coming straight at me. I couldn’t scream or anything, it all happened too fast. I just gripped my twin mattress as hard as I could, and the next thing I knew, it was eerie and quiet and noisy as hell all at the same time. The world was spinning faster than any carnival ride and I was sure I was gonna die any second. I didn’t know where I was, or what was happening. I might have passed out, no way to know, but there were a few seconds, maybe a minute, where I realized I was in the tornado. Me and my mattress.”
Jenna had brought her head up and was staring at him with huge horror-filled eyes. He bent and kissed her nose.
“You can’t stop there. Go on.”
He smiled and rubbed her arm. “Shit was flying by me so fast it was like this crazy dream. I saw a refrigerator, the sign from Wallander’s farm and a tree. A big tree. Something hit the other side of the mattress hard. Turned out I’d nearly missed being impaled by a chunk of fence.
“The next thing I knew, I was being wheeled out of my dad’s office, which still had a roof on it, and into an ambulance. The paramedics kept me breathing on a trip that was evidently epic. Half the roads to the closest standing hospital had been shredded. Everyone made a hell of a fuss when I told them what had happened. My father had actually seen me flying away, never thought he’d see me again. Not alive.
“I was hurt, though, pretty bad. Compound fractures in one arm and one leg, three cracked ribs and one doozy of a cut on the back of my head. For a long time after, every time I fell asleep, I was in that tornado again.”
“How horrible.”
“You’d think so, but it was just the opposite. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. To anyone I’d ever known. The rush was so intense, I’d have done it again in a heartbeat, even knowing the odds.”
“Wow. That’s...”
“Weird,” he said. “I know. But before you ask, there were no flying monkeys or wicked witches.”
Jenna sat up. She pulled the duvet over to cover her bottom half, but left her top half bare. God, her breasts were beautiful.
“No, you goof. It’s extraordinary. A real life-altering event.”
“Yep. It definitely did that. It’s one of those things that no one can understand. Like, I could try to imagine what it feels like to win the Super Bowl, but I’ll never know. Or stand on the moon. There aren’t many people who survive being picked up like that, and the few who do, don’t remember any of it.”
“Do you all meet once a year or something?”
He shook his head. “Nope. But I think about it every time I go out chasing. Sometimes I’ll tell bits and pieces to students and journalists, but rarely, and I make the story about someone else.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to keep to myself. But it’s tricky. Reckless kids, amateur storm chasers, a lot people would only focus on the high, view it as an awesome once-in-a-lifetime experience they want a taste of. They don’t understand the incredible danger involved or that I’m extremely lucky to have survived. I don’t want anyone to get hurt trying to catch a ride.”
“That makes sense, but holy cow, Rick. I’m just... I mean, being swept up in a tornado!”
“Don’t tell me you’re catching the bug.”
“Me? Oh, hell, no. I don’t even ride roller coasters,” she said with such conviction he laughed. “But I can see how it shaped your life. God, no wonder you chase them. How could you not?”
Again, she’d floored him by her insight and her ability to appreciate something that extended beyond her own world. He’d admit it. He’d been somewhat reluctant to tell her the story because he was afraid she wouldn’t get it and he’d be disappointed. “One thing for sure. I’ll never forget what it was like to fly. To tear up the sky. I could barely breathe, but the atmospheric pressure wasn’t what stole my breath away.”
“I can’t even imagine,” she said. “I mean, how are you going to top that, right?”
The air left his lungs and his thoughts stopped. Once again, Jenna had hit the nail on the head. He couldn’t top it. Although God knows, he sure kept trying.
He made up his mind right then and there. “I’m not leaving tonight,” he said. “I’ll catch tomorrow’s flight. If you’ll stay with me. What do you say?”
She kissed him first, and then smiled. “What do you think?”
11
JENNA HAD ALWAYS liked her apartment. It was small, a bit pricey, but she’d been lucky. The place was close to school and had practically fallen into her lap. Her friend Ally had given her a heads-up about the vacancy three years ago.
Another great thing about the place? Rent
included snow removal. She’d arrived home late Sunday evening and almost wept with gratitude when she saw that a nice clear path led right up to her front stairs. She was even able to pick up her mail with no problem. Outside the complex, huge piles of dirty snow left by the plows sat everywhere. Boston had been hit hard, and so had most of the suburbs.
Jenna supposed she and Rick should consider themselves fortunate. He’d grabbed the last seat on that afternoon flight out of Logan. And she’d managed to make it home in a little more than two hours.
Halfway to her bedroom, Jenna stopped to check if the small potted fern sitting on the counter needed water, and in just those few seconds she totally forgot why she was going to her bedroom in the first place. For heaven’s sake, it was only Tuesday. And this wasn’t the first time she’d blanked like that.
Rick.
Thoughts of him, the memory of his touch, how urgently she wanted to remember every last detail. If all that nonsense didn’t stop, she’d have to pick up her long-abandoned journal. She wondered if teenage girls even kept those anymore. No, they just put everything out there on Facebook and Twitter.
Not her. She wanted to write about the crucial details. The way he used his eyebrows. With one lift, a certain kind of lift, he could make her bust out laughing. When he furrowed his brows he looked positively Byronic, and made her embarrassingly hot.
Oh, God. She really was the ultimate sap.
Dear Diary.
Ugh. Somebody shoot her now.
On the plus side, it didn’t matter at all what she wrote about him. From this moment on, he was more fiction than fact. He certainly wasn’t going to be a part of her future.
Ah, it was laundry. No wonder she’d done her best to forget that. But there was the basket, ready with clothes in it. She should have washed them straightaway, but yesterday she’d been in a daze, and today had gone by in a flash. She needed to go back to her routine, like preparing her meals the same way she prepared her lesson plans. It would be a little tricky because Payton had been woven into the fabric of her life, but her motivation was strong. And lists and routines made her happy.